Evil With A View: Expanded Drabble
by 1983Sarah
Summary: Dean and Sam are being held hostage by a demon. Nothing new, right? Well, this one's been specially trained, and the fallout will leave the boys stunned and silent.
1. Chapter 1 The Trap

Evil With A View

_It was a simple hotel. One night stay. No cause for alarm. Or so the Winchester's thought. Until I showed up. They never saw it coming, but I'd be watching them for weeks, learning their habits. Hell, it was beautiful, almost like having them lo-jacked. And then I pounced. They screamed like little girls. Whiney bitches, in their oh so precious skin. Makes me sick, having to use a meatsuit to inflect any real damage. No matter, though. You have to do what you have to do. _

"Time to play, boys," I call, sashaying over to the two bound brothers.

The boy's eyes bug out from behind their mouth gags, slightly bloodshot from straining at their binding.

_They'd never suspected. I had been able to walk right up to the door, just called out to them, "Room service," and they'd came running like two little puppies starving for a meal. Never asking the question as to why room service would come so late and to basically a shack in the woods. I knew they were will settled, though, as the smoke coming out of the chimney indicated a decent fire was blazing. Which played right into my hand. _

She thinks back to what she had seen that night, before entering the room, simple hunts for such experienced hunters.

_A salt and burn to stop a haunting. Run of the mill stuff, although it was still hard to accomplish, even for these two. They'd eventually called in their friend, Bobby, and that skank demon, Ruby. It all turned out ok in the end. _

_And now they were in my hands, my control. _

_How the bitch stood by them in that rotting meat and obeyed their every whim was beyond me. She could be something more. Something powerful. They should bow down to her. Instead, she flings her brunette locks around and simpers at other demons. Makes me damn sick. But I waited until they were all gone and it was just the two. Sam and Dean. Dean and Sam. Twisted, effed up souls caught in a battle they knew nothing about. _

_Never mind that. If the others found out about me, about my plans, they'd kill me. Heaven and hell would destroy me. Still might. But, I'll have gotten the Winchesters. _

The demon shook herself out of her thoughts and moves in closer to the Winchesters. She holds a flail in her hands; her ruby red mouth twists into a wicked grin.

"So, which one is going to play first?"

She reaches one hand down and slowly strokes the chain that the flail ball hung from. All part of her arsenal of torture that she never leaves home without.

Dean's eyes beg for her to spare Sam, and Sam's eyes beg for her to take him and spare Dean more pain and anguish.

"I can see you both are such sanctimonious bitches. So willing to play the martyr card."

Slowly, the chain drops to its full length and the demon begins to swing it around and around, from shoulder to hip. Again and again. The pace is slow at first, but quickens as does the hearts of everyone in the room. When she lets the spike covered ball strike both brother's legs she lets out a squeal of delight. Sam and Dean bite back their shouts as the teeth of the device dig into their skin and pull out chunks of flesh. A splash of blood covers the floor, and with it the scent of iron. The rust red color stains the floor in gory detail, bits of white flesh speckles it.

"I bet you're wondering what I want now, aren't you? Silly boys. Or boy, rather. I expect Sam has no clue, but, well, two Winchesters for the price of one. I just can't resist that!"

Her eyes flash black and then appear normal again; all the while she swings the sinister-looking scourge from side to side, careful not to hit herself or the brothers again. Not yet, anyway. The demon glances back down on her weapon of choice.

"I think I'm bored with this one, already. It's too easy. Not painful enough."


	2. Chapter 2 The Torture

_My gaze fell upon the glowing fireplace. I smiled to myself and reached out for the jet black poker, its cool surface resting lightly on my hand as I begin the process by shoving it deep into the coals of the blaze. This should be fun. This will be just like home, now. Won't it? Oh, yes. I don't miss it, but I sure do love what I learned there. _

"There we go. Should remind you of hell, Dean. The flames, the searing, acrid smell of burning flesh."

She takes a deep breath as if to savor the aroma in the air now; flesh, blood, burning wood, and white-hot metal.

_I pulled out the poker, shook my head, unsatisfied with the slight glow, and placed it back in the fire. They need to burn…he needs to burn. I can't stand it anymore! I turn my attention back to the boys._

She comes closer to the boys, rubbing her hand across Dean's face, as if in comfort, then scratching his skin with her finger nails, drawing four thin lines blood as she went. The female demon then pulls a vial and syringe out of her pocket.

"While we wait, how about some chemical warfare? You know what the CIA used in the past? What a special demon we all know and love used, well, after a fashion, anyway? 3-Quinuclidinyl benzilate. Makes all the pain sensors in your body do a dance. And we all know how you love to dance, Dean."

_I can't wait to see their reaction to this. It's going to be the best. Still not nearly enough for all that they; that HE did to me. I filled up the syringe with the liquid and jabbed it into Dean's arm. Then I filled it again and rammed the needle home into Sam's, watching them both wince in pain and greedily praying that the effects are fast acting._

"You should be used to this by now, Dean." She watches in wonder as both jerk and twitch. Their senses becoming heightened so that all sound, light, touch; any stimuli, is painful. They strain against their bindings then cry out in agony as the very touch of the rope drives them mad.

She loves every minute of it.

_Yes! Finally, after all those years and years. It's payback time! You, and everyone one you love Winchester! _

She turns to the fire and reaches out for the poker, now a glowing orangish-red: truly reflecting the colors and the heat of hell. The flames cast a dizzying display on the walls and floor. They add to the intensity of the situation and make it all the more sinister because they writhe like damned souls trying to escape the rack.

"I figure since I can't bring you to hell, I'll bring hell to you, Dean."

She watches the shocked look on his face, well, at least above his nose. It's the eyes that show the most. They were always soulful green eyes.

"You know what it's like to have your eyes burned out, Dean? It's not a picnic. They melt, like jelly. You've seen it, I'm sure. It's terribly painful at first, but they get deadened as time goes on. The screams stop, right?"

_I shudder inside a bit at the thought. Remembering how it felt in hell, the heat on my eyes, the horror of knowing what was happening and that there was nothing I could do to stop it. Shaking it off, I turn back to the present, and my wildest dream coming true. Now was not the time to get squeamish and nostalgic. Stay focused! _


	3. Chapter 3 The Tale

Dean's eyes lighten at the sudden realization. He struggles to speak the name incredulously but is unable to get out more than a muffled, "hooovveee."

The demon snickers, rubbing one hand on Dean's cloth covered chest in an attempt to elicit sensual thoughts and feelings. Then other hand holds the poker steady, mere inches from his eyes.

"And this would be all it takes too; I wouldn't even have to touch your pretty eyes, my love. The heat alone would do it."

"Hoolllleeee, stuf pft!" Dean screams into the gag that is preventing his words from coming and glares at the demon with all the venom he can muster, his eyes a burning pool of deep green to the point of being almost black.

The demoness backs away from Dean in a coy manner, her index finger sliding down her lips seductively, mocking in her voice that drips like acid on the skin, burning away layers and causing pain.

"Oh, so you remember me now? Gee, what was it Dean, 4 years or so of torture? And you freakin' forget about me? Dammit, boy, you sure better remember now. I'm gonna be the last thing you ever see! Holly. You know, sweet girl, got conned into selling my soul when I was young and foolish. Came down to hell and got to be one of your first practice rounds. Alistair sure loved you when you turned into his little bitch. "

Sam looks over at Dean, confusion and sorrow on his face. Although Dean could only see Sam's eyes and nose he knew that pissy look. There were questions in his brown eyes and he didn't want to answer them now. Sam had known some of what had happened in hell, but he didn't know everything.

_That's it, boys. I want you to hate each other and hate me as much as I hate you both. God, this is the best thing ever. Too bad it's in this sad sack of shit. I want to grab his liver right out of his body. Make him eat it. With fava beans, haha! I grinned at my own joke. _

"Figures, though. I looked a bit different on the rack, didn't I? Flayed alive again and again and again! All that muscle and blood and bone exposed! Dripping out my innards as you grabbed them up and torn them out of me or stepped on them. Shit you were good with a knife; got so good you could remove all the skin in one piece so you had a Holly throw rug. Do you miss it, boy? Do you miss all the hatred you could muster being poured out onto the souls of the damned. Oh, you were a serious talent, with your scarred body and artful hands. You resisted longer then I did, of course. Thirty years and it only took me four to break and get off the rack."

Sam and Dean feel the full effect of the drug Holly had given them now. The bright light from the fire causes their eyes to water and skin to burn. They feel the need to move and yet movement is what brings them pain. Still, they struggle against the restraints. Sam manages to get hold of his knife and begins the horrid task of cutting away the rope, the weight of the knife itself almost too difficult to bear.

Holly rushes up to Dean and sits on his lap, causing his hips to scream in pain as the pressure seems to force every blood vessel inside to break and to tear every muscle. She yanks off the gag and presses her lips to his mouth in a violent kiss. He tries to pull away from the anguish he's feeling but she bites down on his lip, drawing blood.

_I could rip off his whole frickin' lip with one quick jerk. That would really make my day. _

Holly slowly draws out a knife hidden inside her boot. She traces it lightly over Dean's skin and then reaches out her arm to slide it across Sam's arm and leg and face. Both boys shudder from the normally gentle and sensuous touch, which is like being gutted at this point.

She starts to sway over Dean's lap, mocking his normally playboy self with this parody of lust.

"What? Don't want a lap dance today? Should I take it further? How about all the times you raped me in hell, Dean? I know, I know, it was just payback for all the times it was done to you. Life's a bitch and then you die. Only in hell, you come back for more and more. You offered me my own head on a stick! I remember that. I remember when you beat me, whipped me, torn into me. I'd be down to nothing be a brain stem before I would become whole again."

Dean's eyes fill with tears at the memories, offering no words in his defense.

"Not so tough now, huh, big man on hell's campus!"

Finally, Dean chokes out two simple words, "I'm sorry," and he breaks down.

Holly continues to smile ruthlessly but she rises up off of his lap.

"I was someone too, I deserved saving more than your ass. But YOU were the one the angels came for, not me. But I crawled out of hell. Oh yes, I did. On my frickin' hands and knees until I could reach here and now. And I vowed to get the soul that had made me pay for my sins. Alistair made you a real piece of work, buster. But when I was turned he took me under his wing too. Let's see who the better student was?"

She walks over to Sam, giving him a slap across the face, which loosens the rag tied around it, and then she heads out the door to her car where more of her horrendous torture devices are stored.

"Dean, it wasn't your fault! It was Hell! Why didn't you tell me about it?" Sam questions Dean between deep gasping breaths of fresh air. Even the act of speaking causes his throat to feel as if it is being scrubbed down by a toilet cleaner with bleach.

"You think I want my baby brother to know shit like this? To know what a real monster I was while I was there? How much I enjoyed gutting and killing the soul and the very essence of people? Because they were people, just like me, Sam! How can I judge her now? I mean, we've got to get you out of here, but me, I deserve this. It's just payback for all that I've done! How can you even love me or respect me knowing this?" Dean hangs his head in shame, waiting for the outpouring of rage from his younger brother, but nothing comes.

Sam stares at Dean for a moment before saying three forgiving words, "You're my brother."


	4. Chapter 4 The Takedown

"Awww, are we having a love-fest in here? Can't have that, now can we?" Holly coos as she reenters the room. "Now, what I have here is something totally delightful. Its rats, see?"

She holds out the cage so that Sam and Dean can look inside. In the confines of the cage twists and turns two rats, their whip like tails thrashing back and forth and their jelly toes clicking on the cage's base.

"You remember rat torture, don't you Dean?" Holly screeches, her laugh icy cold and malevolent, "The base of the cage is removed and the top is heated so the rat gets out the only way it can…through you!"

Both Winchesters shudder and Sam redoubles his efforts to escape without Holly noticing. But she is far to absorbed in her own little vendetta to notice.

"Man, do I wish I was actually in ME, my body. Of course, we're not all gifted to come back into our own like Deanie-boy here. I hate this god-awful meatsuit. It reeks of fear and resistance. Plus, it's damn frustrating to hear the faint noise of screaming and pushing in the back of your mind. But no matter, I manage." Holly says, and she places the cage lightly on Dean, pulling out the base. She grabs up the poker once more, only this time she holds it close to the rat, which begins to frantically claw at Dean's stomach. Dean screams in pain and fear as the skin is torn away from his body and the rat begins to hit muscle.

Suddenly, it seems as if a storm has erupted outside the building. The walls of the hotel shake from the force of the wind and lightning flashes across the sky. The door bursts open and Castiel steps inside the room.

"What have we got here?" Holly questions innocently.

"The end of this. Leave now, or I will be forced to take action," Castiel's voice thunder's throughout the room. Holly is unfazed by this, however, and she turns to Sam with malicious intent.

"Enough." Castiel moves quickly and presses his palm to her forehead. White hot rays of pure energy and light pour out of the host's eyes and mouth. The force of this shakes her body to its core and both host and the demon Holly fall to the ground, dead.

The angel quickly grabs the cage and the rat off of Dean and makes fast work of the bindings for both brothers, who are still suffering from the effects of the drug Holly gave them.

"What took you so long, Cas?" Dean questions between chattering teeth as shock starts to set in.

"I could not help until it was certain that you were in mortal peril."

Castiel places his hand once again on a forehead, this time with the intent to heal. First Dean, and then Sam are made whole again. At least in body. Silence still weighs heavily on the room as the brothers pack up their gear and head to the Impala. It's another night on the road and Dean is already preparing as if a hunt is imminent.

"Dude, you want to take it easy?" Sam questions, aware that Dean is still suffering from the fact that Holly was a soul he'd tortured in hell. Sam could hardly believe it either. The things she'd said…it made his skin crawl. "We don't have to go and find a place to sleep tonight. We can go for a while. Maybe find Bobby, he just left us, and I know…"

Sam's voice was cut off by Dean's gruff response, "I don't want to talk about it right now, ok, Sam?" Dean couldn't bear another moment of thinking about what he'd done to Holly and thousands of other souls in hell. How he'd even enjoyed it. It was terrible and he didn't want to sleep, to hear the screams. He didn't want to feel the torture he endured either, the grinding of bones into power, the crush of his skull, the snapping of his neck, the spilling of his insides, and more.

Plus, he could relate to Holly. He wants to kill Alistair just as much as she wanted to kill him. Maybe more. And he'd made her what she is today. He just thanks God that tonight, he didn't have to try and kill the monster he created.

No, he couldn't deal with that tonight. He had to forget, because remembering hurt too much.

The Impala's speed increases as Dean pushes these thoughts from his mind, Sam a worried passenger, unsure of what to say or do, and wondering what Dean will do when he finds out HIS secret. The darkness of the night presses in on the Winchester's, hiding their sins and sorrows. For now.


End file.
